Life Shaded In Hues Of Red
by starlight.moon.princess
Summary: There's more to the Death Eaters than we ever saw in the books. Sometimes AU ::1 - Bellatrix; 2 - Goyle; 3 - Regulus; 4 - Rodolphus; 5 - Alecto and GreybackScabior; 6 - Draco; 7 - Narcissa and SeverusLucius::
1. Jealous

Bellatrix Black was a jealous creature.

i.

When her parents brought Andromeda and Narcissa home from Saint Mungo's, she hated them.

She loved them because they were her sisters, but she hated them all the same.

Her family's attention was supposed to be on her! Her, not some bratty little babies who thought they could steal all her attention by crying and wailing and not being able to anything else at all!

But no one else saw it that way. Before, she had been cooed over like the most important person in the world. Now, she was ignored in favour of those screaming bundles.

She couldn't turn herself back into a baby once again, but she wouldn't let her sisters win. If she couldn't remain the baby of her family, she would become the son her father longed for and would never have.

She picked up her first Dark Arts books the next day.

ii.

It wasn't fair!

Bellatrix was the eldest, the most beautiful, the one most talented in the Dark Arts! And yet, _Narcissa_ was the one getting marriage offers, not her!

It should be her getting married first! It was her right as the _eldest_ child!

But no, no Pureblood family had approached her with a marriage offer. There were no Pureblood heirs lining up at her doorstep, waiting to marry her.

She could already see the pity in the eyes' of everyone around. _Another Black spinster,_ that was what they were thinking. _No one will ever want to marry her._

Well, she'd shown them all. She'd get married _before_ Narcissa.

So what if she'd have to use a few Unforgivables to ensure that? It wasn't like anyone was going to test her groom for the Imperious Curse before they got married.

iii.

Bellatrix _hated_ her fellow Death Eaters.

They were always swirling around her Master, taking up his time with their insipid whining and useless plans. They were taking up all the time he could spend with her!

All of them were useless. All of them deserved to die. How _dare_ they take her Master away from her?

So when her Master granted her the rare gratification of killing one of those fools who had displeased him, Bellatrix took it with pleasure.

They would return to claim his attention again, of course. They were like a diseased squid, with millions of arms all clamouring for her Lord's attention.

But at the very least, they next time they returned, they would be one arm short.

.

Yes, Bellatrix Black was a jealous creature.

* * *

_For:_

_The Jigsaw Puzzle Challenge_

_The If You Dare Challenge, Prompt 197. Old Ruins_

_Fantastic Beasts Challenge, Flobberworm_

_Florence and the Machine Challenge, Blinding_


	2. For Vincent

Gregory Goyle watches his best friend burn slowly, dying with agonizingly painful cries while he was helpless to do anything. Vince died while those three little Gryffindors fled the burning Room of Requirement on broomsticks.

Of course, they turned back to save Draco and him, but it was already too late for Vincent Crabbe. He had already burned to death in front of his best friend.

And it was all the little Gryffindors' fault. If only those three had died when Vince had shot Avada Kedavras at them, this wouldn't have happened. If they had turned back earlier, Vince could have been saved.

Oh, they'd pretend like they had meant to save Vince too, but Greg knew better than that. They'd waited until Vince died, and _then_ they'd turned back to get him and Draco. They couldn't bear to see someone who was superior to them live, so they'd let him die.

He couldn't do anything to get them back until they were out of the Room. As much as he hated it, his life was in the hands of the blood-traitor and Mudblood for the moment. But he'd watch them carefully during the battle. He'd make sure that they didn't die. And just when they though they were safe, he would strike.

He would make them suffer like Vincent had. He would see them quail in terror and fright. He would have his revenge.

For Vincent.

* * *

_For:_

_The Jigsaw Puzzle Challenge_

_The If You Dare Challenge, Prompt 643. Sweet Revenge_


	3. Retribution

He didn't know when things changed so drastically.

Once upon a time, he had been a true scion of the House Black, respected by everyone. And now he was reduced to groveling at the feet of a madman who wasn't even of pure blood, _thanking_ him every time he was tortured.

Barty was lost to the devotion of the Dark Lord, Sirius hated him, and the only thing his parents cared about was what a good little Death Eater he was.

Regulus Black hated Voldemort with a burning passion. Because of him, he had lost everything.

Had he been a Gryffindor, he would probably have done something stupid, like attack him directly. But Regulus was a Slytherin, so he plotted in secret, spending hours upon end trying to figure out Voldemort's weakness, all the while keeping up the pretence of being a loyal follower.

But no matter how much he searched, he never found it until Voldemort needed _his_ help. It was rather ironic, the fact that it was Voldemort who had caused his own downfall.

He needed a House-Elf, he said. So Regulus lent him Kreacher, the one elf who was loyal to him over his mother, the only one who would not report what had happened to his mother if he ordered it so. And then, he waited.

When two hours had passed, he felt that Kreacher had had enough time to complete whatever task it was the Dark Lord had assigned for him.

"Kreacher!" he called out in the quiet of the room.

Immediately, the elf popped into the room.

"Master Regulus!" he cried, flinging himself at Regulus' feet.

"Stand up," Regulus told him. His bowing reminded him uncomfortably of how the Dark Lord expected his followers to act. Once the elf stood up, Regulus started his questioning. "What did the Dark Lord have you do?" he demanded.

Kreacher shuddered. "The Dark Lord, he – he had Kreacher try to get a locket for him. Kreacher – Kreacher had to go inside a cave by giving his blood. Oh Master Regulus, it was horrible! The Dark Lord made Kreacher stain the rock dark red! Oh, Kreacher would have to scrub it for days and days to get all the red out! And then – oh Master Regulus, he had Kreacher sit on a boat in a lake. Kreacher does not know how a lake got inside a cave Master – there was rain to give it water! It was cursed water, Master. Kreacher saw dead Masters and Mistresses in the water, and they were moving! And then – then he had Kreacher drink poison. It burned, Master, it burned! And after Kreacher had drunk the poison, the Dark Lord went away and left Kreacher there. Kreacher thought he was going to die, Master Regulus. Kreacher would have died if Master had not called for him! It was horrible, Master, so horrible that Kreacher does not want to say," the elf babbled, the entire tale coming out in one long speech.

"Did you see the locket Kreacher? Tell me about it!"

"It was a golden locket Master. It had the symbol of the noble house of serpents on it, just like Master Regulus used to wear when he went to Hogwarts."

"Thank you Kreacher," Regulus told the elf as a dismissal.

Once the elf had disappeared, Regulus made his way to the hidden library his father had kept. It contained books on the Darkest of the Dark Arts, and he faintly remembered reading something that might explain the Dark Lord's need to protect a simple locket so securely.

He pulled out _The Ancient Arts For Gaining Power_ and ran his finger down the index. There it was – _Horcruxes_.

It all made sense now, why the Dark Lord was seemingly invincible, why he insisted that he had gone further on the road to immortality than anyone else ever had. He wasn't a pureblood, he couldn't have known about the history of Horcruxes. He must have believed that he was the only person to make one in history.

Voldemort had handed his one weakness to Regulus on a silver platter. Once his Horcrux was destroyed, Dumbledore and his Order could kill him easily. It would take time and money, but Regulus had an abundance of both those things.

Voldemort thought he was the pupeteer holding Regulus' strings, but he wasn't. Regulus had broken free of him a long time ago.

He had stolen everything Regulus held dear – his name, the man he loved, the love of his brother – and in return, Regulus would ensure the loss of the only thing the Dark Lord held dear.

His life.

* * *

_For:_

_Fanfiction Tournaments (May)_

_Dueling Tournament_

_The If You Dare Challenge, Prompt 617. Daring Revenge_

_Colors Competition, Black (negative)_

_Greenhouses Competition, Gillyweed_

_Fantastic Beasts Challenge, Sharke_


	4. Freefall

**For Camp Potter (Paintball - write about the Astronomy Tower during the war); the Light and Darkness Competition (genre: suspense; spell: stupefy; pairing: Bellamort; word: eternity; quote: "Power is always dangerous. Power attracts the best and corrupts the worst." - Edward Abbey and bonus: lifeless pony); the Duelling Competition (word: distortion, silkily; color: green, golden, turquoise; emotion: sorrow; quotes: "If you win, you need not have to explain...If you lose, you should not be there to explain" - Adolf Hitler, "Older men declare war. But it is the youth that must fight and die" - Herber Hoover; genre: tragedy and mystery; pairing: Bellatrix/Rodolphus; setting: Entrance Hall; bonus: write about a Death Eater); the If You Dare Challenge (788. Reminiscence) and the Slash/Femmeslash Bootcamp (41. Knife).**

**WARNING: Suicide, underlying incestuous tones**

_For Gamma and Laura - RodRab is all your fault._

* * *

Better, stronger, _**purer**_.

That was what they had been promised, so long ago when they had pledged their lives to their Lord. A world free of any and all impurities.

The dream seemed laughable now. The dreams he had crafted for them in his silky voice was all but lost.

Oh, his companions thought that they were going to win. After all, they had the advantage of numbers, did they not? But Rodolphus always could see more clearly than any of them could.

They might have the stronger force, but those fools in crimson and gold were so much more motivated than any of them were. After all, even a lifeless pony would fight when backed into a corner, and that was what they had done to the Mudblood loving fools.

And if they won – what then? They had already lost so many pureblood families because of the wars they fought for their Lord. The Blacks, McKinnons and Prewetts were dead, the Longbottoms, Weasleys and Bones would follow if their Lord reached power. The Lestrange name would die out with him and his brother. Bellatrix was too occupied by the Dark Lord to think about having a child, and his brother wasn't interested in procreating.

Truth be told, neither was he.

How many other families would lose their only children in this battle? The Dark Lord and Dumbledore had set the board for the war, but they had lost no one. The ones that would die would be the young, and they would take any hope of pure future with them.

So here he was, standing at the very place that Dumbledore had been killed and with him – they had hoped – the hope of his foolish followers.

From here, he could see the spells flying around the Entrance Hall. Flashes of scarlet red, emerald green and turquoise blue flew from the wands of the fighters. He wondered how many purebloods his darling wife had already killed. The fools were using spells like _Stupefy_ and _Expelliarmus_ in the face of her _Avada Kedavras_ – they were sitting ducks until Potter came and saved them once again.

The great dream of pureblood supremacy he had always held dear was gone. Whichever way this war ended, there would be no more purebloods left to rule.

Rodolphus Lestrange was a proud pureblood. He would not see his world and everything he had fought for be destroyed or distorted by the hands of madmen and young boys.

Maybe he should have been imagining his wife and this moment, but his heart had never been held by her wild black curls and crazed smile. Instead he dreamed of hair cropped short by Azkaban wardens and a soul that was so much more innocent and delicate than his owner's body looked.

Once upon a time, the greatest sinner had fallen to his death from this Tower. Today, he would too.

It had a sort of odd symmetry to it all – the saint and the sinner, the red and the green.

The only thing he would regret was leaving Rab alone. But – his brother was so much more resourceful than anyone gave him credit for. He would find his way, and in time, he would forgive Rodolphus for leaving.

After all, he would be waiting for Rabastan in their eternity.

His eyes sought out his brother one last time before – well, before. Rab was fighting by Rookwood's side, and the last thing he needed was to be distracted by his brother's body.

"Avada Kedavra."

He would be wearing a hint of smile when they found his body the next day.


	5. Betting on Certainties

**For the If You Dare Challenge (753. Betting); the Slash/Femmeslash Bootcamp (37. Bet); the HP Potions Competition (Confusing Concoction); the Greenhouses Competition (Whomping Willow); the Legendary Creatures Competition (Hieracosphinx) and the Popular Song Competition (Climax)**

_For Doors - I hope you like it!_

**WARNINGS: Some language, non-explicit lemon in the second section. This - and only this - chapter is rated M for the aforementioned items.**

* * *

"There ain't no way those are two are fucking Alecto," William smirked at the dark-haired woman. "Y'must be out of your mind to offer a bet like that."

"I do believe it's my business what I decide to bet on, Yaxely," Alecto said, looking at Gareth disdainfully. "Now, none of you gentleman have answered me. Will you be taking me up on my proposition or should I offer it to someone else?"

"Now wait just a moment Lex," Antonin said, ignoring Alecto's murderous glare at the sound of the nickname. "If you want to lose your money so easily, we'd be more than happy to take it out of your hands, now wouldn't we boys?"

All the other men nodded equally, counting out Galleons and handing them over to Jason, Gareth Scabior's second in command in the Snatchers. The thin man was sniggering to himself at the stupidity of the men around him. Unfortunately for them, none of the other Death Eaters paid any attention to him.

"Now that that's settled, let's see your proof that Greyback and Scabior have a thing going on," Harden demanded.

"Calm yourself Travers, you'll find out soon enough," Alecto said. "All of you, follow me."

She led them to the caves that Greyback and his pack had claimed as their territory.

"What're we doing here?" Farran asked, a hint of nervousness entering his voice. Fellow Death Eater or not, Fenrir Greyback wasn't exactly known for being kind to people who entered his territory without express permission from him.

"Don't worry Neuley, he won't eat you if he finds you here. We've got Alecto with us," Harden said drily. "For some reason, he's decided she's worth something to him and doesn't want to piss her off. If you ask me, it's her and not Scabior that he's fucking and she's only trying to throw us off of their sce-"

Before he could finish the last word of his statement, Alecto stopped abruptly in front of the largest of the caves, causing the people behind to have to stop whatever they were doing and gather themselves quickly to avoid crashing into her.

"You might want to keep quiet now," she turned around to inform the men behind her in a deceptively calm voice. She gave Harden a look filled with fire and hate, eyes flashing dangerously at him before she turned back around. "Just so you know, this is Greyback's personal cave. It's the one place I cannot guarantee your safety. Enter at your own peril gentlemen."

All of the men followed her inside, no one wanting to look like a coward in front of the other Death Eaters.

Alecto led them through the cavernous hole in an ever winding path until even the most observant of them was lost. Still she went deeper and deeper until she finally stopped in front of a walled-up room. It had originally been a natural part of the cave, but when Greyback had moved in, he had used his magic to speed up its formation to the crude structure that was in front of them.

Though the room was warded with charms that prevented them from either entering or seeing what was going on inside, it did not stop the sounds from the room reaching their years.

They were undoubtedly moans of pleasure, pleasure of a kind that none of the men could mistake.

"Fine, he's fucking someone," William said, turning to face Alecto, "But how do you plan to prove it's Scabior and not some two-bit Knockturn Alley trick?"

Instead of answering his question, Alecto simply pulled out her wand and tapped the shimmering ward in front of them in a complex pattern.

"Just because he thinks it's secret doesn't mean I don't know how to disable his wards boys," she said, smiling seductively.

"How. The. Hell?" Antonin muttered, gaping at the sight in front of him.

Alecto smirked, holding her hand out to Jason. "I warned you boys," she purred. "Don't _ever_ bet against a woman."

* * *

On the bed, Gareth broke away from the man above him for a moment. "Did you hear that?" he asked, panting breathlessly.

"Hear what?" Fenrir asked impatiently. He didn't like it when his lover's attention was somewhere else, and especially not if that happened when the two of them were in bed together.

"I thought I heard someone at the door," Gareth said, struggling to break free from Fenrir's embrace so that he could look at the entrance to their room.

"It must have just been the wind," Fenrir said dismissively, tightening his hold on Gareth's arms as he pulled him back in for a violent, bruising kiss.

And then all thoughts of odd sounds and possible intruders were lost in the pleasures gained from the slap of flesh against flesh, and pleasure that burst through their veins.


	6. Dark Illusions

**For the Title Swap III Competition (title: Dark Illusions; characters: Draco Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Voldemort, Albus Dumbledore; prompts: darkness, death); Camp Potter (Paintball - write about either war from the POV of a Death Eater); the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition (song: _'Beauty and the Beast' by Nightwish_); the If You Dare Challenge (579. One Chance) and the Song Fic Boot Camp (song: _'Beauty and the Beast' by Nightwish_; 22. mother)**

**Large parts of this fic were inspired by the song _'Beauty and the Beast' by Nightwish_, specifically the lines: _Don't you know this tale / In which all I ever wanted / I'll never have / For who could ever learn to love a beast?_**

**WARNINGS: Slight AU at the end**

* * *

It was a story the he had been told ever since he had been a little child. The Dark Lord was the saviour of all purebloods and when he rose again, he would destroy anyone weak enough or impure enough to stand in his way.

He would purify their horribly infected world, and the faithful purebloods would be rewarded beyond their wildest dreams. They would be the ones who would rule the new wizarding world, finally receiving the birthright that had long been denied them.

And Draco had always believed that. He had believed every last piece of all the stories his father had told him, never even stopping to think that perhaps the Dark Lord wasn't exactly all that he was cut out to be. Even when the deaths started piling up, and purebloods started dying, he couldn't imagine the idea that his father had been wrong, that he had been fooled.

Draco had believed that the world was rightfully his, and here he was, standing in the middle of the mess made by the shattering of every illusion he had once seen as reality.

He had always known how his life was going to turn out. He was going to graduate Hogwarts at the top of his class and take his position at his father's side, both in the Ministry and by the Dark Lord. Eventually, he would take his father's place altogether.

But all those dreams and expectations were gone, replaced by the stark reality of the fact that not only was the Dark Lord an insane maniac, he was also after the one thing that Draco valued over anything else – his family. The Dark Lord, the man who was supposed to be the saviour of the purebloods, was also the person who was more than happy to wipe the name of Malfoy from the list of still surviving family lines, and the only thing that Draco could do to prevent that was kill the greatest and strongest wizard alive, an impossible task.

It was strange that it was only at his weakest, most hopeless moment that the dark glasses that Draco seemed to have wearing all his life had fallen off his face. The Dark Lord wasn't the answer to the pureblood problems; he was the one that had caused them. Had he never started his petty little war so many years ago, the majority of the public might not have viewed purebloods as below them. Had that war not happened, maybe, just maybe, his father's generation wouldn't be as obsessed with bloodlines as they currently were.

Had the Dark Lord never started the war, maybe Draco wouldn't have been the monster he could now see that he was.

His mother had always, _always_, tried to tell him not to follow his father as blindly as he did, but he had never listened. He had taken the whispers and mutters of him being a junior Lucius Malfoy as a compliment, rather than the insults they actually were. And now the blinds were off, he could see every muggleborn he'd insulted and bullied, every arrogant act he had ever performed as though they were magical paintings that covered every inch of his brain.

His mother had tried to mould him into a better person, a better man, and he had failed her dismally. And yet, through everything that he and his father had put her through, she had loved them with all her heart. He was a monster, the creature that hid under the beds of little children, someone who no one could love – who didn't _deserve_ to be loved – and yet his mother had never once stopped caring for him. She had never once given up on him.

Draco had never once given his mother any reason to be proud of him, to love him, but as far as he was concerned, that was all about to change. He refused to be the beast that no one could love any longer. No, he was going to change for the better. He would make sure that the Malfoy name was respectable once more.

The Dark Lord thought that holding his parents hostage would guarantee his loyalty and make sure that he tried his best to kill Dumbledore. Unfortunately for him, the Dark Lord was completely and utterly wrong.

Draco would sure that he would overcome the darkness that the Dark Lord had brought upon his life. He may have thought that Draco had absolutely no other options apart from following his orders, but not even he could see the future. Draco would do anything to make sure that his family was safe, something that he _knew_ would never happen if the Dark Lord was in charge.

So he would bury all of his ego and his pride, and go to Potter, tail between his legs, to beg for the help of the very man he was supposed to murder.

He knew that having his name, it would be difficult for the Order of the Phoenix to accept that he was sincere, and the fact was, the way he had treated Potter over the years meant that they would be even more doubtful than had it been just the fact that he was a Malfoy. But he would persevere, and make sure that the Order could trust him in a way that the Dark Lord would never be able to.

Who knew? Maybe one day, he'd even be friends with Harry Potter.

It was not the life he had imagined for himself when he was a child, but if it meant that his parents would be safe, he couldn't really care less.

Once upon a time, he had believed that the world revolved around him. But he had grown up and seen those illusions shatter to pieces right in front of him. And yet, he was a Slytherin. There was absolutely _nothing_ that could keep him down for long, and definitely not the broken pieces of dark illusions.

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**I hope you guys liked it! As always, please don't forget to drop a review on your way out :)**


	7. Lover

**For the Light and Darkness Competition (genre: drama; era: between 1981 and 1991; character: severus snape; pairing: severuslucius; colour: coral; word: reality; song: _'Loreen' by Euphoria_, specifically the line _"An everlasting piece of art"_; emotion: amusement; dialogue: "Just accept it, you've lost"; quote: "It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages"); the If You Dare Challenge (892. Cold As Ice); the Song Fic Boot Camp (song: _'Loreen' by Euphoria_; 38. drink); the Pairing Set Bootcamp (7. luciusnarcissa) and the 10 times 10 challenge (adjective: bitter)**

* * *

If there was one thing Narcissa Malfoy could appreciate well, it was irony.

She remembered what her mother had warned her against. Make sure he never has cause to think that you are being unfaithful, she had said. She wished her mother could see her now.

A distinctive _crack_ signified the arrival of a house-elf.

"Mistress, the guests, they is starting to come now," it said.

"Of course," she murmured in reply, rising aristocratically from her bed. Far be it that she be seen looking anything less than perfect.

As she walked out of the room, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. A tall, statuesque blonde beauty, dressed in a vibrant coral robe that only served to make her look cold and washed out. The Ice Queen, they called her. They would never guess just how close to reality their whispers were.

After all, there was no reason why she should dress herself to her fullest beauty for a man who didn't love her any more. And her coldness in public was only a reflection of the state of her marriage.

The only good thing left in her life anymore was her son. Her gorgeous, _gorgeous_ son, the one person in the world she would do anything for.

She would make sure he never ended up like her, stuck in a loveless arranged marriage.

She was Narcissa Malfoy, nothing more than an everlasting piece of art to her husband. The ideal trophy wife.

The fact that tonight's ball was to celebrate the anniversary of their marriage – well, it made her want to laugh in bitter amusement. After all, she wasn't going to be the object of her husband's attentions tonight, the one night of all nights she should have held his undivided eye. No, that _honour_ was reserved for the person he _truly_ loved.

Sometimes she wondered why she even bothered trying to fight it anymore.

Just accept it, the voice in her head that sounded remarkably like her mother taunted her. Just accept it, you've lost. What was the basis of her marriage, anyways? A deal brokered between two pureblood houses? How she had ever thought it would last, she didn't know

Her sister had sent her a letter telling her something when she begged her not to go through with the marriage, and if that wasn't possible, to postpone it and get to know Lucius better. It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship, that makes unhappy marriages, she had said. At the time, Naricissa had laughed at Andromeda's words, believing it to be jealously at the fact that her younger sister was marrying so much better than she, the girl who had married a Mudblood, had ever managed.

Now, however.

Now she thought she understood.

"Hello, Lucius," she murmured, catching sight of her husband as she swept down the long staircase.

"Hello, darling," he smiled in reply, holding out an arm as she approached him. "Shall we?" he asked, as though there was nothing wrong with the two of them, as though they truly were the happy couple they pretended to be.

"Of course," she replied, playing along with him. There was no need for the world – or, Merlin forbid, Draco – to know the reality of the relationship between the two of them.

The two of them had never had the time to develop a friendship. He and- and that person had.

Once upon a time, she had tried everything she could think of to turn his attention towards her. Now, she knew the cold, hard truth. She would never measure up to his lover. She would never be able to steal his love for herself.

She supposed she should be happy that he loved their son, that he wasn't like Walden McNair, who had no compunctions about murdering his wife in front of their choice.

It was little relief, but it was there.

She grabbed a flute of champagne from one of the passing house-elfs, bracing herself for the coming inevitability. There was a reason she always hated balls that were held at the Manor.

Sometimes, she wondered why she even bothered trying to be civil. But then she remembered her baby boy, so excited to hear about Hogwarts. One day, Draco would go there, and if her actions meant that there would be one Professor who wouldn't automatically hate him just for being a Malfoy, then every hurt she bore in silence would be worth it.

"Mistress," an elf muttered, appearing in front of her and bowing deeply. "Professor Snape is being at the front door."

She downed her glass of champagne and fixed a smile on her face. It was time for her to go and greet her husband's lover.

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**I hope you guys like it! As always, please don't forget to drop a review on your way out :3**


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